The Great Escape
by Sabella
Summary: Bishop races to escape the final destruction. But, will he escape the consequences of his treachery? Complete oneshot.


His ranger's instincts at full throttle, Bishop quickly wound his way through the dank-smelling chambers of the Illefarn ruins, hoping to put the rumbling sounds of battle far behind him.

He would have given even-odds as to who the victor would be – the Knight Captain or Black Garius – but he wasn't fool enough to stick around and find out who was left standing to collect. That was _just_ in case he might have ended up being on the losing side -- and being on the losing side just wasn't on his agenda on this day.

He wasn't surprised that Garius welched on their deal. The black reaver had practically promised Bishop the Tears of Selune, except that when the Ranger had kept his part of the bargain and delivered Crossroads Keep, the King of Shadow's emissary had demanded more – much more that what the Ranger was willing to give. Undying loyalty to his Master's service? Becoming another 'yes-man?' What an arrogant fool the undead bastard had been, thought Bishop. None of that was going to happen -- ever. All he had wanted was a million in gold and a one-way ticket to wherever the King of Shadows wasn't going. That was the deal, plain and simple. An unfortunate malfunction of the Keep's gates at the right time was well worth that, but all Garius tried to deliver was a one-way ticket into his Master's servitude. Nope, that was just not going to happen.

The Ranger could at least count on the Knight Captain and her motley crew to keep Garius and his assorted demons and devils busy while he managed to escape the reaver's greedy clutches. And, if by some quirk of fate, the good guys managed to not only kill Garius, but also defeat the King of Shadows, he would go hide someplace safe until things cooled down and then possibly return. She wasn't the type to bear a grudge – not _that_ Paladin in the service of the Goddess Goody-Two-Shoes. Plus, if he was lucky enough that the 'other' Paladin was called to meet his Tyr during the fracas here, the Ranger just might have a chance to get back in her _really_ good graces later on. Yeah, that's what he would do, he thought, and chuckled to himself. She always _did_ have a soft spot for him – she would take him back and forgive him after he convinced her of his deep sorrow at having sold her out. Especially if he could finagle a few minutes alone with her and show her that what she had needed all along was a _real_ man -- not that moon-struck Paladunce.

His inner plotting was interrupted as the rumblings behind him grew and the block stone floor beneath his feet trembled. There was an odd, other-worldly tone to the echoes that now resonated through the cavernous halls. A chill ran up his spine as he tried to place the sound and found that it was nothing he had ever heard before. The surreal howling reverberated through every stone under and around him and he knew it could only be one thing. The King had arrived. And, if he was howling, then the Knight Captain had surely put away Garius and was now fully engaged with His Majesty. The ranger's feet moved faster along his designated path, trying to keep pace with the pounding in his chest.

As fast as he could move, he rounded the final corner and at the far end of the corridor, hecould see the edge of the portal that had brought him here. It still glowed with the faint incandescence that promised to return him to the woods along the edge of the Mere where he had first stepped though. He had had enough forethought before that initial journey to bury a few hundred gold pieces a fair distance back in the woods – just in case – along with his favorite bow. He wouldn't be walking away with the million that Garius had promised, but it was enough to get him off of Faerun, and that was better than nothing at all.

The howling suddenly ceased and an oppressive, deafening quiet settled over the hallway. He stopped just long enough to listen for any sign of the would-be victor. At first he heard nothing, then the beginnings of a faint, rolling rumble that exponentially grew with every second.

It wasn't a remnant of battle, or even the cheer of the side left standing. It was the sound of floors giving way, and ceilings crashing in upon themselves. All around him the spirits of a long-dead people spilled from every crack and crevice of their ancient home, at long last able to denounce their unholy Guardian, euphoric to be finally free of their own folly. He resumed his dash for the portal, faster than before.

A manic wave of raw energy swept through the chamber, and with the bond between the peoples' spirit and the King's gateway now broken, giant blocks began to crack and rend themselves apart into flying dust and crashing rubble.

'The King is dead.. Long live the Knight,' he thought ironically as he lunged headfirst into the portal's opening -- but not before a flash of searing light and heat swept across his face.

Bishop didn't know where he was when he regained his first semblance of consciousness. He couldn't see, and his hearing registered nothing more than a muffled collection of odd sounds. He sensed that he was surrounded by some 'ones,' or some 'things,' but couldn't distinguish anything other than a faint, strange odor of which he wasn't familiar. As he thought about it, he wasn't totally sure he was even alive, having only a dull sense of feeling in his body.

He felt what he thought was a hand on his arm, although he couldn't be sure, and then another hand gently and ever-so-slightly lifting his head. He felt a cup being placed to his mouth filled with what tasted to be nothing more than cool spring water. It awakened a dull throbbing pain in his lips.

"I…I can't see you, or hear you," he whispered hoarsely, unable to tell if his vision was hampered by bandages, or what the problem might be.

'Don't try to talk, now. Try to rest,' came a kindly voice in his mind.

"I.. I didn't hear you, but I 'heard' you," he tried to whisper.

'Yes, we're speaking to your mind, human,' came a more authoritative voice. 'We found you not far from our enclave. You had been severely injured.'

"Where.. where am I? How…how long ago.."

"Shhhh… You're safe now, and it was a few days' cycle ago."

Bishop knew what that meant. If it had been a few days ago that he had been rescued, and he could not yet see and there was his loss of hearing, then…..

'Yes, your eyes were… completely gone, Bishop.' responded the authoritative one. 'We still aren't sure of your hearing. Your human physiology is not something with which we have much experience, and as for your eyes, there was nothing left to heal, except their.. sockets, I believe you call them.'

"My.. my… my eyes.. Completely gone?"

'Yes, burned, it would appear, as was most of your face. We were able to make some.. repairs.. However, it will take time, in any case."

Bishop cringed inside. If his eyes were gone.. His face!! Oh, gods.. He couldn't deal with that possibility at the moment.

"You.. you called me by name.. How… how do you know who I am?" he asked, his voice garbled and choked.

'We've met before, but I doubt you remember,' he heard the authoritative one reply in thought.

'Now, here.. drink some more. We know you require water and food to sustain yourself, and you are very weak,' the kindly one said. Bishop let the water run into his mouth and swallowed.

He lay motionless for a long moment, trying desperately to keep his mind from succumbing to the shock of his injuries. "Who.. are you?"

'That is unimportant at the moment,' the authoritative one replied tersely.

'Now, now, don't be unkind, Silas' said the kindly one, seeming to chide the authoritative one. 'It's time for Bishop to rest now. I will have some broth for him when he awakens again.'

He felt the hand gently slip from his head and the Ranger quickly lapsed to unconsciousness.

'I doubt he will believe you when you tell him, Silas,' the kindly one said.

'Pffft,' the other retorted. 'He won't care as long as we heal him. Then we'll send him on his way.' He paused for a moment. 'Anyway, should he repeat this to anyone, they'll surely threaten to lock him up and throw away the key. Especially if he should go around telling the story of how he was rescued by the _Wendersnaven_.'

Silas chuckled, but no heard it except his mate, Maefra.


End file.
